


One Season, Four Loves

by RubyofRaven



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender, Good Omens (TV), Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Bakery, Alternate Universe - Bookstore, Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - Flower Shop, Alternate Universe - Flower Shop & Tattoo Parlor, Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Modern: No Powers, Alternate Universe - No Bending (Avatar TV), Alternate Universe - No Powers, Alternate Universe - Non-Magical, Alternate Universe - Tattoo Parlor, Cheesy, Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Christmas Party, Christmas Tree, Dorks in Love, F/F, F/M, Feels, Fluff and Humor, Gen, Holidays, Humor, Idiots in Love, M/M, Mistletoe, Mutual Pining, Pining, Puns & Word Play, Romance, Tea, Teen Romance, Winter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-22
Updated: 2021-01-22
Packaged: 2021-03-15 20:07:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,140
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28694421
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RubyofRaven/pseuds/RubyofRaven
Summary: Zuko's best friend is Katara, but he's been pining over her brother, Sokka for months. Sokka thinks Zuko’s hair is stupid and so are his sparkling eyes...Ginny has been pining over Azula for weeks, but Azula spends all her time hanging around Luna. So, when Neville asks Ginny to be his fake-date, she says yes.Neville’s gran keeps setting him up on dates and he needs it to stop - if only he could find a way to tell Luna he likes her then all his problems would be solved. Meanwhile, Luna finds mistletoe fascinating and convenient.Crowley has wanted to live with Aziraphale and raise a cat together since high school, but Aziraphale's too good for the likes of him. Aziraphale wants the same thing, but he’s sure Crowley has long forgotten any romantic attraction he ever felt for him.OrA holiday crossover, non-magical, non-bender, human AU featuring a whole street of shops: tattoo parlors (that also sell mystic crystals), flower shops, book shops, bakeries, tea shops masquerading as cafes, and - for some reason - a seafood market. There will be puns, pining, a pine tree, and plenty of feel-good moments.
Relationships: Aziraphale (Good Omens) & Hermione Granger, Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens), Azula & Luna Lovegood, Azula/Ginny Weasley, Crowley (Good Omens) & Neville Longbottom, Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley, Iroh (Avatar) & Molly Weasley, Katara & Zuko (Avatar), Luna Lovegood/Neville Longbottom, Sokka/Zuko (Avatar)
Kudos: 5





	One Season, Four Loves

**Author's Note:**

> Hello!
> 
> This is the _Good Omens/Harry Potter/Avatar the Last Airbender_ (aka _OmensPotterAirbender_ ) holiday crossover fic that absolutely no one asked for - in fact, some people expressed concern when I told them about the idea - but I wrote anyway. 
> 
> My friend Ruby of Raven recently wrote a Descendants tattoo parlor/flower shop AU called This Will Work (which you should totally go read) and after I read it I thought - how many shop AU’s can you put together? Then I thought, how many love tropes can you fit in? Then I thought, why not make it a holiday fic? Then I made a goal to have 4 different types of romantic relationships. Then I couldn’t figure out a fandom it fit in, so I decided to make it a crossover.  
> I picked the fandoms with no particular thought put into how the world would combine, I just picked characters I felt like writing. 
> 
> So, in conclusion, this is probably a huge mess, but I tried to make it a joyful huge mess, and I’ve grown oddly fond of it. 
> 
> As always, my amazing and adroit friend Ruby of Raven has graciously posted this fic on her account for me. She’s been incredibly helpful and supportive, so shout out to her! 
> 
> I do not own _Good Omens_ , _Harry Potter_ , or _Avatar the Last Airbender_ , or any of their characters, quotes, plot events, etc.
> 
> -MMR

There is a quaint little district, in an otherwise unextraordinary city, known as Winterville. The main street is called Jubilation Avenue, and it is lined with an assortment of small, family-owned shops. Each shop is as well loved and as unique as the families themselves, whose stories are so disparate as to make one believe that they moved here from completely different worlds.

Still, there is something almost magical about this part of town, and it's never more clear then when the holiday season comes around. However they got here, the families have made a vibrant home on Jubilation Avenue and every December the residents and shop owners come together to put on a Winter Holiday Fair. For three evenings during the darkest days of the year, there are free activities, baked goods, and decorations on sale for a fraction of the price, and it is really less of a business endeavor and more of a block party.

This particular year, on the day before the fair is set to begin, the shop owners and their dedicated workers are all bustling about, trying to get everything ready for tomorrow evening.

\-----------------------------------------

A.Z. Fell’s bookshop is well beloved by it’s proprietor, if not necessarily a commercial success. This is probably why Hermione Granger is the only employee, other than Aziraphale, the owner. In fact, since she graduated high school almost five years ago, she is only a _seasonal_ employee. She’s home for holiday break, staying with her parents in the apartment above their dental practice just two streets west of Jubilation Avenue. However, in January, she will return to graduate school and Aziraphale will return to running the store on his own. 

She’s tried to suggest he start carrying more popular books, and advertising in the local newspaper. _The Quibbler_ isn’t exactly hard-hitting journalism, but everyone in the district reads it - to support Mr. Lovegood, if nothing else, now that his daughter Luna’s busy with her own shop. However, Aziraphale finds change difficult. It took Hermione three years to convince him to change his organizational system for the store from chronological publishing date into subsections by subject arranged alphabetically by author’s last name. 

Though, Hermione can’t complain too much, because, secretly, she likes the shop just how it is most days: quiet, peaceful, unique. Indeed, she and Aziraphale spend most of her shift drinking tea and talking about 17th century authors. 

“I’m old enough to have met some of those authors,” he likes to joke, patting at his silver hair.

Quite honestly, it’s a miracle the place is still open.

Today they’re re-alphabetizing the section about ancient civilizations. Aziraphale is so well read and passionate about history, it’s almost as if he lived through it, what with some of the details he can recall. Once they reach the mesopotamians, they decide to take a break.

“I love how quiet it is here,” Hermione says as she sips her earl grey tea. “The library at my university is silent, too, but you can feel the underlying tension about exams. Here it’s just calm.”

“It is often heavenly,” Aziraphale says, looking around the slightly dusty shop. “But lately, I’ll admit, it seems a bit too quiet.”

“I’m sorry, sir,” Hermoine says. “Not to be too forward, but you could meet someone, if you’re lonely. There’s even dating websites specifically for old - er, more mature - people, now.” 

Aziraphale chuckles sadly, “I’m afraid it’s not so simple for me. Let’s just say my idea of a honeymoon is a good meal and a bit of cuddling before falling asleep.”

“Oh,” Hermione says. “I’m pretty sure they have website settings for that, too.”

“I’ve actually only ever loved one person,” Aziraphale continues. “We met long before you were born, back in high school. He was a bit of a bad boy.” Aziraphale smiles, before growing wistful once more.

“He asked me on a date once, but I handled it terribly. It all seemed to be moving too fast back then,” he says. “Now, I wouldn’t say no to dinner with him.”

Sometimes Aziraphale gazes longingly down the street at Crowley’s flower shop, but he never quite can find the courage to go in. They’ve spent so many years living on the opposite sides of the same street, it almost feels like they’re in some sort of immortal standoff .

Anyway, Aziraphale figures it’s all long in the past, and surely Crowley has moved on. Even if he hasn’t, there are plenty of people on this street alone who would be a better match for Crowley than him- like Iroh, with his interest in floral teas, or Molly, who makes the most decadent devil’s food cake (it completely slips Aziraphale’s mind that Molly is happily married).

Aziraphale sighs, “I’m just a silly old man, aren’t I?”

Hermione shakes her head, “You’re an angel.” 

Aziraphale smiles gently,“You’re too kind, my dear.”

“I still think a dating website has merit,” Hermione says. “I’ll come over and help you set up a profile after the Winter Fair.”

“That online stuff always seems like magic to me,” Aziraphale says, shaking his head.

“Well, I’m good at magic.” Hermione grins.

“Thank you, but I’m not sure that’s the best idea,” Aziraphale replies.

“It’s a great plan,” she asserts.

“It all seems a rather ineffable plan, to me.”

“That’s not the same thing,” Hermione frowns.

“No, it's not,” Aziraphale says. “You’re quite right, my dear.”

\----------------------------------------

In the afternoon, after she’s left the bookshop, Hermione stops at the Weasley Family Bakery. It’s a small store front, but the family owns - and lives in - the three floors above it as well. With Molly and Arthur Weasely’s seven children in and out of the house at various points throughout the year, the space is well used. The bakery is always filled with the noise of clanging pans, and the scents of cinnamon and pumpkin.

“Hello!” Hermione calls as she hurries through the door. The burst of heat is welcome, even after such a short walk in the cold. She notes Ginny Weasely sitting at one of the small tables near the window before she’s distracted by a clatter in the back of the shop, behind the kitchen doors. A few seconds pass before Ron Weasely bursts out, his apron caked with flour, and his face flushed red from the heat of the stoves.

“There’s my clever girlfriend!” he says with a wide smile. His mother, Molly, follows him out and is quick to elbow him out of the way to give Hermione a tight hug.

“Look at you, back from graduate school! You’re already on a second college degree when my Ron couldn’t even finish the first,” she says. Ron rolls his eyes and waits impatiently for his turn to hug Hermione.

“Bill didn’t get a degree, either, and he’s doing fine,” Ron says.

Ginny snorts,“He’s still had plenty of training. He spent two years in an art program and then had an apprenticeship.”

Ron has succeeded in distracting their mother, though, as she turns her fretting to the career of her second oldest son.

“I don’t see why he’s so determined to make a living stabbing people with needles instead of helping to run the bakery,” Molly says.“In fact, I’m worried Ginny is aiming to follow in his footsteps, what with how much time she’s been spending over at that tattoo parlor.” 

Over by the window, Ginny turns her head away to hide the blush creeping onto her face.

“I’m not trying to become a tattoo artist,” she mutters, but Molly seemingly doesn’t hear her.

Molly continues her tirade, “Fred and George are starting that joke shop across town, Percy’s got his government job, and Charlie is off in Romania getting his masters’ degree in zoology. Why do none of my children want to inherit the bakery?”

“I’ve been working here since I finished college,” Ron objects.

“Since you dropped out,” Ginny says.

“I told you, I’m going to go to the police academy in the spring,” Ron replies.

“Even you want to leave me,” Molly says, staring at her youngest son.

“Aww, Mum…” Ron says, looking a bit panicked. Hermione motions at Ron to hug his mother.

Hermione isn’t concerned about the future of the bakery. She already knows Ron missed the application deadline for the police academy. So she just takes off her coat and watches mother and son interact with an amused smile.

Molly lets Ron go after a few moments and returns to the kitchen to get the bagged lunch she had prepared for Bill. Ginny volunteers to take it over to the tattoo parlor, and Molly acquiesces with an exasperated look. 

“Don’t worry, Mum,” Ginny says, rolling her eyes. “I promise I’ll return to university in January instead of running off to become a tattoo artist.”

Ginny heads out the door and Molly shakes her head and goes back into the kitchen to start on the next batch of pastries for the fair.

In the meantime, Hermione and Ron have moved to sit at the table nearest the door.

“So,” Hermione says. “Have you heard from Harry recently?”

Ron nods his head a bit ruefully at the mention of their childhood best friend.

“He’s still training to join the secret service or something. You know him, always dreaming about defeating evil overlords,” he says. 

They both laugh a bit at that.

\----------------------------------------

It only takes Ginny a few minutes to walk down the street to Lovegood’s Tattoo Parlor and Mystic Crystal Shop. It’s a bit of a strange place, but Ginny’s known Luna since they were kids and - she means this in the nicest way possible - Luna’s always been a bit strange herself. They were all shocked when, instead of going into journalism like her father, Luna double majored in visual art and mythology & folklore. 

They were more shocked when, after graduating a year early, she asked her father for a loan to open a tattoo parlor. 

Since Luna has no qualifications to do any part of the tattooing process - except for helping create designs - she hired Bill Weasely to essentially run the business. Then she opened up the mystic crystal side of the shop, which she runs herself.

In comparison, that actually almost seemed sensible.

Regardless, Luna and Bill seem content with the situation, and Bill already has a potential apprentice of his own: the niece of the cafe owner, Azula. The girl with the golden eyes and the fiery temper.

Ginny and Azula are the same age, but they’ve never really had reason to talk before. In fact, the only reason Ginny sees her at all is because she’s been bringing Bill lunch everyday since winter break started.

Ginny steps into the tattoo parlor half of the shop and sets her brother’s lunch on the counter. There don’t appear to be any customers at the moment, so Ginny feels no guilt in yelling.

“Bill!” she calls. “Your lunch is here!”

Her brother comes out of the store room, and smiles.

“Thanks, Gin,” he says.

Ginny nods, trying to look casual.

“Is Luna here?” she asks, then adds a little more intensely, “or Azula?”

“Sure,” Bill says. “They’re over on the crystal side, sorting the latest shipment of quartz or something.”

“Oh,” Ginny says. “I thought Azula only helped out on the tattoo side.”

“Yeah, she wants to train as a tattoo artist once she finishes her art degree,” Bill says. “But, she and Luna have gotten really close lately. I wouldn’t have expected it, with how prickly Azula can be, but Luna’s calm sort of balances her out.”

“Luna’s always had a way of enchanting people,” Ginny says, shoulders slumping dejectedly.

“Why don’t you go on back and say hi?” Bill suggests, pulling a sandwich out of the paper bag.

“Okay,” Ginny says. She feels nervous, but today is the last day she can ask Azula to the fair. It’s now or never.

The two halves of the store are separated by a thick, beaded curtain. The beads click together as Ginny shifts it aside. The mystic crystal side of the shop is lined with shelves and tables shoved haphazardly in all directions and piled with stones of all sizes, shapes, and colors.

This side of the shop has its own storeroom, and Ginny makes her way toward it. She can hear the faint sound of voices, and they grow clearer as she passes the last shelf between her and the door. Even though she knows she should announce her presence, she finds herself stopping just out of sight.

“It’s not very fun to go to the Winter Fair alone,” Luna’s dreamy voice floats out of the storeroom.

“I don’t exactly have a lot of friends. And I’m not spending the whole evening trailing along behind Zuzu,” says Azula.

“I’ll go with you, if you want,” Luna offers.

“Sure,” Azula says. “Why not?”

That’s all Ginny hears before she turns and leaves the store as quickly and quietly as possible. When she passes Bill on the way out, she tries not to look too embarrassed or heartbroken. 

Ginny wonders what she was expecting, anyway. She’s a tomboy studying kinesiology and Azula is an artist who looks like a princess - it’s like they’re from different worlds.

\---------------------------------------------

It’s nearly dinner time when Azula returns to her uncle's shop. The Jasmine Dragon Cafe is Iroh’s pride and joy. Everything is neatly organized and well-cared for, from the tables with their vases of fresh flowers, down to the pristine tea cups. 

Though they serve coffee and sandwiches, it really is more of a tea shop than anything. The different types of tea alone takes up two-thirds of the menu.

Azula finds the entire business painfully dull, in fact she finds this entire _town_ painfully dull - and much too cold - but she has to admit things are better here, far away from her father’s influence. For Uncle, certainly for her brother - and, grudgingly, for herself, too. Things have especially been better for Azula since she met Bill Weasely’s sister, the girl who has hair the color of fire and an easy confidence in her smile.

Her brother and her uncle have already closed up the shop for the day. As she walks through the freshly cleaned cafe on her way to the stairs up to their apartment, she passes Zuko and Katara sitting at the counter with steaming cups of tea. Azula is in a bad mood, since Bill told her she missed Ginny’s visit to the tattoo parlor today, so when Zuko raises his hand in a half-wave she ignores it and storms up to her room.

Downstairs, Zuko flinches at the noise of the slamming door. 

“I don’t know why you even try,” Katara says.

Zuko sighs. “She’s my sister,” he says. “I can’t just give up.”

“I know,” Katara says. “But you have every right to call her on it when she’s rude to you.”

“Katara, you know you’re my best friend, but please stay out of this,” Zuko says.

“Fine, fine,” Katara says. “I’m just saying, I would never let my brother treat me that way.”

“Sokka is much, much nicer than Azula,” Zuko says, studying his tea intently.

“Maybe to you he is,” Katara says with a laugh and a sort of sideways look.

“I have no idea what you mean,” Zuko says seriously.

“Oh, I know,” she says with a sigh. “I know.”

It’s then that Uncle Iroh comes down the stairs, humming to himself.

“Don’t mind me,” he says, moving toward the kettle. “Your sister seems to be feeling upset, so I’m making her a nice soothing cup of jasmine tea.”

Katara and Zuko share a skeptical look, but don’t contradict Iroh’s remedy. Once the tea is ready, Iroh gathers everything up and moves to head back upstairs.

“I’ll leave you two alone now,” he says with a wink, before disappearing up the stairway.

Zuko lets his head thunk against the table and Katara pats his hair consolingly.

“Why does he still think we’re secretly dating?” Zuko asks.

“I don’t know,” Katara says. “But we’d be awful together.”

“Like fire and water,” Zuko agrees.

Zuko raises his head, and he and Katara finish their tea over idle small talk.

“I can’t believe it, one more year and you’ll be off to medical school,” Zuko says.

“It’s hard enough for me to believe you’ve already gotten your business degree,” Katara replies.

“Yeah, but that’s it for me,” Zuko says. “I’m just going to take over the shop once Uncle retires.”

“I forget, sometimes, that you want a simple life,” Katara says. “You’ve always carried yourself like you were the heir to an empire or something.”

“Well, Uncle treats this place like a palace,” Zuko smiles, motioning around the shop. “So you could say I’m the crown prince.”

“Of tea,” she says.

They giggle together for a few more minutes before Katara has to leave. 

“My dad and brother will need help making the salmon jerky for the fair,” she says.

“It’s okay,” Zuko replies. “I told Uncle I’d go pick up the flowers for the table centerpieces for tomorrow.”

\----------------------------------------

Anthony J. Crowley’s Flower Shop is just down two buildings and across the street from the cafe. It’s started to snow, though, so when Zuko enters the store he takes a moment to shake the melting flakes from his shaggy hair.

The shop is densely packed with plants, all flourishing in their pots -leaves green and stems straight. Neville Longbottom is tending to the plants on one side of the shop, while Crowley waters the others. Neither of them notice Zuko immediately, so consumed are they in their work. 

Neville appears to almost be humming, tenderly checking leaves for spots and fondly propping up stems to encourage straighter growth. Crowley, on the other hand, seems to be glaring at the plants as he inspects them. Zuko swears he hears him hiss, “Grow better!” at a particularly peakish jade plant. This seems like a bit of an unorthodox method to tend plants, but, then, Zuko knows nothing of gardening.

Crowley and Neville are an odd pair of coworkers, but Crowely’s plants have a reputation of being near perfect, and Neville is the only florist who can live up to the same level. He came into the shop last year with sweaty palms, a botany degree, and an understated bravery and he left with a job (and likely an inheritance). 

While working the afternoon shift in the cafe a number of weeks back, Zuko had once heard Ron Weasley say, “Nev defeated the old snake.” 

“Mr. Crowley is not a snake, Ronald,” Hermione had scolded him.

“Then what’s with all the hissing!” Ron replied.

His girlfriend flicked his ear in annoyance, but Ron wasn’t finished.

“Anyway, Crowley looks a lot like the son of this bloke who works with my dad, Mr. Crouch,” he said. “He had a hissing thing, too, and he kept flicking his tongue out.”

“It was an uncontrollable tic, Ronald, at least try to have some tact,” Hermione had said. 

It was around that point Zuko had stopped listening and gone back to clearing tables.

Now, in the flower shop, Zuko finds he can’t disagree with Ron about the snake thing, but he definitely doesn’t need to say that out loud.

“Excuse me,” Zuko says after a moment. “I’m here to pick up the Jasmine Dragon’s flower order.”

“Yes, of course,” Neville says, moving to the front of the store. “Your order is all ready to go.”

“The snapdragons turned out lovely,” he adds.

Zuko nods. “Uncle’s always had a special fondness for anything named after dragons.”

Neville nods, “Charlie Weasely’s the same.”

Once Zuko has gathered up the boxes and headed back out into the snow, Neville sighs and goes to help finish watering the flowers. He quickly gets lost in his thoughts about tomorrow’s fair and sighs again.

“What’s with all the sighing?” Crowley drawls, glancing up from an arrangement of poinsettias. “You’ve been at it all day.”

“My grandmother keeps pestering me about getting a girlfriend,” Neville says. “She’s even started setting me up with her friends’ granddaughters.”

“Are they ugly?” Crowley asks.

“No!” Neville says, mostly truthful.

“Are they dull?” Crowley asks.

“Not especially.”

“Are you anything other than straight?” Crowley asks.

“...No?” Neville says, growing confused.

“Then I don’t see the problem,” Crowley replies.

“I already like a girl,” Neville says, thinking of a charming, blonde-haired young woman who studied myths and opened a tattoo parlor. “I just don’t know how to tell her yet.”

Luna is one of a kind, and Neville is run of the mill. He’s pretty sure it would take some kind of magic spell to get her to even glance his way.

“I’d like just one evening to have fun without my grandmother asking awkward questions,” Neville continues.

“Alright,” Crowley says, languidly shrugging his shoulders. “So just ask one of your little friends to be your fake-date for the fair.”

“You mean lie to the woman who raised me?” Neville asks.

“What’s life without a little sin?” Crowley replies.

\----------------------------------------

After Neville leaves for the evening, Crowley stays down in the shop for a few more hours working on evergreen wreaths to sell at the fair.

Crowley likes his shop, it’s comfortable - which is a far cry from the hellhole he lived in before moving to this street all those years ago. In fact, sometimes it feels like he’s lived on Jubilation Avenue for ages. He’s starting to feel old - it seems like he’s seen everything since the beginning of time in comparison to the youthful brats slowly taking over the shops.

Anyway, Crowley likes his shop, but it can get lonely. Especially at night, when he goes up to his empty apartment. He wishes he could share it with someone. The trouble is, that someone is a very specific someone - the only person Crowley has ever loved. The pale-haired, bookish boy he met in high school. All he wants is to cuddle with him and raise a cat together. But Crowley came on too strong all those years ago and scared him off. 

Now, they live on the same street and barely ever say two words to each other when they meet on the sidewalk. They just awkwardly nod at each other as they pass, and Crowely always shoots a longing glance over his shoulder and wishes it was possible to go back in time.

Besides, Crowley knows Aziraphale is too good for the likes of him. Crowley’s a difficult person, he can be a downright demon of a man sometimes. It wouldn’t be hard to find a much better match for Aziraphale than Crowley. He thinks about how Aziraphale and Iroh both adore tea, or how Molly’s angel food cake can win anyone’s heart (he momentarily forgets Molly won the heart of her own husband years ago).

At least Crowely can look out his shop window and see A.Z. Fell’s bookshop down the street. Aziraphale stays down in his shop until late at night, most days, and watching the warm light streaming out into the December darkness always makes Crowley feel a little less alone.

\----------------------------------------

On his way home from the flower shop, Neville stops by Hakoda and Son’s Seafood Market to pick up some mussels for dinner. Katara is running the cash register while her brother and father work in the back. 

Neville gets his order filled promptly, but before he can leave, he hesitates between the counter and the door. He stands in place for a moment, conflicted, before coming to a decision and turning to ask her a question. 

“Katara, would you be willing to go to the fair with me?” Neville asks. “I need one night without my grandmother asking why I don’t have a date.”

He just can’t stand the thought of having to explain to another of his grandmother’s friends why their granddaughter is perfectly lovely, but no, he can’t go on another date with them.

“I’m sorry, Neville,” Katara says, “but I’ve already made plans with Zuko.”

“Besides,” she adds, “I’ve told pretty much everyone about my boyfriend, Aang.”

“The one that nobody in the neighborhood has met and is traveling the globe?” Neville asks.

Katara shrugs. “What can I say? He wants to learn everything and save the world,” she smiles.

They both jump a bit at a sudden burst of frigid air as Ginny throws open the door to the shop.

“Oh good, you’re still open,” she says. “My mum wants some smoked whitefish.”

“I’ll go grab some from the back,” Katara says, leaving the room.

“Hi Nev,” Ginny says, walking further into the shop. “It’s been too long since we talked. Funny how time turns, huh?”

“Yeah, it feels like we haven’t hung out since we left high school,” Neville says.

“Seems like yesterday we were all kids, making a mess of the bakery,” Ginny says with a smile.

“Yeah,” Neville agrees. “Your house was always the best place to play.”

They wait in silence for a moment. Neville thinks of sweet old ladies and their seemingly unending supply of single granddaughters. He decides to give it another go.

“Um, hey, do you have plans for the fair?” he asks.

“Nope,” Ginny says, sounding a bit sad. “I’ll probably just hang around Mum’s stall with my brothers.”

“Would you mind going with me? Not as a real date, though! Like, as friends hanging out and letting _other_ people think it's a date kind-of-thing,” Neville rushes to explain. Ginny looks a bit bemused, and Neville’s shoulders droop in exhaustion.

“My gran’s been awful nosy about my personal life lately,” he says.

Ginny laughs. “Sure, anything to help out an old friend.”

“Gin, you are an absolute life saver,” Neville says, grinning. He shifts his grip on his bag and waves to her as he heads out the door.

“I’ll see you tomorrow night!” he calls.

\----------------------------------------

The night of the Winter Holiday Fair is cold, causing breath to mist in the freezing air, but the skies are clear. So clear, that even through the haze of city lights, the stars are visible, shining brightly. The streetlights have been wrapped up in silver and gold garlands all along the avenue, and the shop windows have been decorated with twinkling fairy-lights and shiny bows. The street has been closed to traffic, and all the shop owners have set up stalls along the sidewalks to sell their goods.

At seven o’clock the fair begins, and Neville meets Ginny outside the Weasley Family Bakery. There are already people milling around the street, buying tea or pastries or wreaths, before moving further down the avenue.

“What do you want to do?” Neville asks Ginny, after she pulls him into a quick hug.

“Ice skating sounds fun,” Ginny replies, pointing down the street to the small park where the ice rink can be seen, the perimeter railings bedecked in little blue and white lights.

The park is located right beside A.Z. Fell’s Bookshop, and it is the only green space on Jubilation Avenue. In late spring, it is common to see Aziraphale sitting on the bench at the side of the lot, reading whatever book has caught his fancy and waving hello to anyone passing by. Many of the residents jokingly refer to the park as Eden and to Aziraphale as it’s kindly guardian.

Tonight, Neville and Ginny make their way to the ice rink, dodging around the growing number of fair-goers. Ginny grabs his hand to keep them from getting separated. 

“I love skating,” Ginny says. “I played hockey with my brothers all the time growing up. I used to think it was like flying.” Ginny pauses a moment. “Can you skate?”

Neville shrugs, a slight smile turning up his lips. “Yeah. Somehow, I’m clumsy everywhere except the dance floor and the ice rink.”

When they arrive at the park there are already a few couples on the ice. They get their skates from the rental table beside the rink, and soon they step onto the ice together. It’s only after they’ve circled the rink a few times that they notice Luna and Azula. Neville and Ginny had been laughing and jokingly swinging their arms together, pulling each other into messy turns, but at the sight of Luna and Azula clutching each other and trying to stay on their feet, their smiles drop. As they get closer, they can hear the two girls’ conversation.

“I thought you said you knew how to skate!” Azula says.

“I said I was learning how to skate,” Luna replies.

“For how long?” Azula snaps.

“Since about fifteen minutes ago,” Luna says. “I think I’ve figured out standing.”

“That’s not a trick. Babies learn to do that at, like, eighteen months old.” Azula scowls.

Her eyes suddenly catch Ginny’s before sliding down to where she’s still loosely holding Neville’s hand. Azula’s scowl deepens.

“Look, you can already move! Good job!” Luna says, pulling Azula’s attention back to her.

“That’s because my balance is impeccable from all my martial arts training,” Azula huffs, tilting her nose up.

Ginny turns her head to say something to Neville, who turns to look at her, and Luna wobbles into Azula right as the other couple is passing them, and they all end up in a tangle of flailing limbs. Neville manages to stabilize Luna, but Ginny ends up flat on her back with Azula sprawled over top of her. 

“Sorry,” Azula says after a long moment, staring into Ginny’s hazel eyes. She places her hands on the other young woman’s shoulders and pushes herself back to her feet. 

Ginny stands easily, brushing snow from the arms of her jacket. She hopes the flush on her cheeks, at how close their faces were a moment before, is mistaken as a consequence of the cold air.

“It’s alright,” Ginny says. “I have six brothers, it’s hardly the first time I’ve been tackled.”

“You wouldn’t have been tackled at all if someone was truthful about their abilities.” Azula casts an irritated look at Luna.

“We’ll let you get back to your date,” Ginny says, looking away.

“What?” Azula says, startled. “No! We’re just friends,” she hurries to explain, while motioning at Luna.

“She doesn’t have very many,” Luna chimes in.

“Luna!” Azula says.

“I don’t, either,” Luna says, looking utterly unconcerned. Ginny turns back to stare at Azula with a hopeful smile, and Neville notices it before Ginny can get it under control.

“Still, I guess Neville and I should be going,” Ginny says, reluctantly pulling her gaze away from the brown-haired young woman. “We’re supposed to meet Nev’s grandmother at the tree lighting.”

“No, that’s okay,” Neville says, suddenly putting a little more space between himself and Ginny. “You go ahead and skate some more. I can handle my gran.”

“Are you sure?” Ginny asks. Neville nods with a slight smile. He figures at least one of them should get to have a real date tonight.

“I’ll go with you,” Luna says, looking at Neville. “I think I’ve made enough progress with my skating. What about you, Azula?” 

“I think I almost have the hang of it. I’d like to practice some more,” Azula says. She and Ginny are staring at each other and they both seem to have forgotten Neville and Luna completely.

“I can help give you some pointers,” Ginny offers.

“Sure,” Azula says, linking her arm through Ginny’s. “We’ll go with that.”

“You’ve never skated before?” Ginny asks, as she leads Azula further onto the ice. “Because you’re pretty stable.”

“No,” Azula says. “I’m not very fond of the cold. But I’ve always been a bit of a prodigy.”

Azula takes a moment to steady her footing and then she slides her hand down to properly clasp Ginny’s. 

Even through her gloves, Ginny can feel how warm Azula’s palm is, like she’s holding a flame in her hand. As they skate together in slow, lazy circles, Ginny finds herself thinking that maybe separate worlds can meet sometimes with the help of a little holiday magic.

\----------------------------------------

After Ginny and Azula have skated off together, Luna and Neville exit the rink and return their skates. They walk over to the bench at the edge of the little park and stand there, watching their friends get lost in the increasing number of skaters.

“I haven’t seen Mrs. Longbottom in years,” Luna says.

“She’s not much one for tattoos,” Neville shrugs. “Or mystic crystals.”

“And I’m not much one for hats,” Luna says. “But I’d still love to talk to her about her millinery.”

“I have this great idea for a hat with a lion head. It could roar and everything,” she adds.

“Gran’s pretty particular about her shop,” Neville says.“You’re braver than me to even suggest a design.”

“You’re plenty brave,” Luna says. “And most people just call my ideas looney.”

“You’re the smartest person I know. And I’ve met Hermione.”

Luna giggles a bit. “Hermione’s brilliant. Just in a more expected way.”

Neville nods, before motioning at the bench.

“We have a bit of time before Gran expects us.”

They sit down, shoulders almost brushing together. Luna looks down the street at the shopkeepers’ stalls, regarding the evergreen boughs and holly decorating them.

“The stalls look lovely this year,” Luna says.

Neville nods with a bit of a blush.

“It was pretty easy. Crowley and I precut most of the evergreen boughs this year, so set up went quickly,” he says. “We even had time to help Molly and Aziraphale put up the garlands around the park.” 

Neville gestures up at the criss-crossing strings of popcorn and cranberries strung between the park’s three trees and single lamppost.

“Look,” Luna says, pointing at a strand above them, just a little off to the side. “Mistletoe.”

Neville frowns. “Crowley must have snuck some sprigs in. I thought we’d agreed to avoid it,” he explains hurriedly.

“I think it’s festive,” Luna says. “You know, druids used to burn it in ceremonies sometimes.”

“That’s interesting,” Neville replies. “It’s a pretty harmless decorative plant. The berries are poisonous, though.”

“Well, in nordic lore, it did kill the light-god, Balder,” Luna says. “But it wasn’t from eating the berries. What else do you know?”

Neville and Luna have turned toward each other, leaning in closer as they talk.

“It’s a parasitic plant. It can cause deformities in trees called ‘witches brooms,’” Neville says.  
Luna hums a bit, seemingly lost in thought. 

“I wouldn’t mind being a witch,” she says. “I’ve always loved the idea of magic.”

“But my favorite mistletoe fact is this one,” she adds.

Luna leans in, closing the last inch of distance between them, and gives Neville a kiss on the lips. She pulls back with a smile, brushing a stray lock of pale hair out of her face.

“That’s pretty magical,” Neville says, slightly dazed.

\----------------------------------------------

On the other side of the fair, a large pine tree has been set up right in the middle of the street. It is bare of decorations and surrounded by a ladder and boxes. Katara and Sokka approach the tree from the direction of the seafood market.

“I thought we would do something fun, like ice skate,” Sokka complains. “Not bedazzle a dead plant.”

“They’re leaving the rink up all winter, we’ll have plenty of time to show off how graceful we are on ice later,” Katara says.

“Besides,” she adds, “Zuko doesn’t know how to skate.”

“Stupid Zuko with his floppy hair and sparkling eyes and stupid toned arms,” Sokka mutters.

“What was that?” Katara says.

“Er, we could teach him to skate,” Sokka says. “That’s definitely what I said. Just a minute ago.”

Katara rolls her eyes and starts walking faster.

“Zuko and I made plans, and we’re going to do them. You’re the one who asked to tag along,” she says.

“I swear, you two spend every waking minute together,” Sokka replies.

“Jealous?” she asks.

“What? No!” he denies.

When they get to the tree, Zuko is already waiting there holding a box of lights. He’s staring at it with a look of confusion and slight wariness - like he’s not completely certain it won’t attack him. Beside him, Bill Weasley has propped a box of ornaments against his hip and he regards the newcomers with an easy smile.

“Thanks for coming everyone, it means a lot you were willing to volunteer your time,” Bill says.

“I didn’t volunteer. Your mother asked my uncle for assistance, and he sent me,” Zuko replies.

Katara comes up behind her best friend and lightly elbows him in the side. He shoots her a bemused look.

“He means we’re happy to help,” she says. Bill nods in acknowledgement, and tries not to laugh.

“Hi Katara,” Zuko says, before noticing who is trailing behind her. His eyes widen and he flushes a bit. “Oh, hi Sokka.”

“Hey,” Sokka says, a matching blush rising to his cheeks. Katara rolls her eyes before going to help Bill sort through the boxes of ornaments on the other side of the tree. Zuko and Sokka are left with two boxes, the one full of lights Zuko is still holding, and one full of garlands on the ground by Sokka’s feet.

Zuko sets his box down and pulls out a string of lights, regarding it a bit like it’s a snake waiting to bite him.

“I don’t know how to do this,” he says. “Before we moved to Winterville, I’d never even seen a pine tree before. Or snow.”

“I’ve never done this before, either,” Sokka says. “My family celebrates the winter solstice, not Christmas.”

“We celebrate the solstice, too. Except we prefer the summer one,” Zuko says.

Bill walks back around the tree, then, and catches the end of their conversation

“My family celebrates Yule, which has some traditions similar to Christmas, but it’s also about winter and being passed the solstice,” he says.

“So why do we have a tree, then?” Sokka asks.

“Aziraphale celebrates Christmas. And maybe Hanukkah, too? I’m not sure,” Bill says. “His father was very involved with the Abrahamic religions. ”

“We rotate. Next year the centerpiece of the fair will be for a different winter holiday,” he adds.

“What does Crowley celebrate?” Sokka asks.

“As far as I know, his origins are similar to Aziraphale’s. He’s just fallen out of the tradition. Always a bit of a rebel, apparently,” Bill says, shrugging.

“So how do we do this?” Zuko asks, holding up the lights. They’ve gotten a bit tangled around his arms and he has to shake his hands a few times to jostle them off.

“Put the lights on first, then the garlands,” Bill says, before turning and walking back around to the otherside of the tree.

“Okay, let’s start from the top,” Zuko says.

“No, we definitely should start from the bottom,” Sokka says.

Zuko frowns,“That makes no sense.”

“It makes the most sense. Trust me,” Sokka says, throwing his shoulders back and puffing out his chest.

“Why? You said you’ve never done this before,” Zuko replies, heading toward the ladder with the box of lights.

“Instinct. This tree is from a cold climate, and I grew up in a cold climate. I know these things,” Sokka says. He rushes for the ladder, reaching it before Zuko and blocking him.

“That’s insane,” Zuko snorts. He tries to move around Sokka “You’re in the way.”

“That’s the point. I will sit on top of this ladder until you listen to me,” Sokka replies, starting to climb.

“You’re behaving like a child.” 

“I am not!” Sokka says, nearing the top of the ladder.

“You are too!” Zuko says. Sokka turns to make eye contact while still climbing upward.

“I am not-” Sokka starts to say, but then the ladder starts to tilt due to his abrupt shift. Before Sokka can fall, Zuko reaches out and steadies the ladder.

“...Thanks,” Sokka says, scratching awkwardly at the back of his neck. 

Zuko just raises an eyebrow. “I guess your tree decorating instincts don’t apply to ladders.”

Sokka flushes in embarrassment. “If you hand up the lights,” he says, still on the ladder. “We can start putting them up your way.”

Zuko doesn’t say anything, he just hands over the box with a slight smirk. It doesn’t take long to get the lights up, especially once the strand gets low enough for Zuko, Bill, and Katara to pass it around to each other. The garlands go up the same way.

“Katara and I have all the ornaments set up on the table, ready for people to pick up for the lighting ceremony,” Bill says.

“Should we check the lights now?” Katara asks. “Just to be sure they work?”

Bill gives a small shrug and grins. “Why not? No one’s paying attention but us, a few minutes won’t hurt.” 

Snow starts to fall as Bill goes around to the nearest storefront to plug in the lights. After a look at Zuko and her brother, Katara follows Bill. The lights flicker on, and Zuko and Sokka watch as the snowflakes reflect the bright colors as they fall to the ground. Zuko catches Sokka smiling.

“What’s making you so happy?” Zuko asks.

“This weather reminds me of where I grew up,” Sokka says. “I like it.”

Zuko looks pensieve for a moment, before a slight smile quirks his lips. “I like it because nothing about it reminds me of where I grew up.” 

They are silent for long seconds. Sokka hesitates before slinging his arm over Zuko’s shoulders. 

“Well, we both like snow. That’s a start,” he says. 

At first Zuko stands stiff as a statue, but then he relaxes into Sokka’s side, gingerly leaning his head against Sokka’s shoulder. Sokka smiles, he couldn’t say who in the world he was fighting against, but it kind of feels like he just won a war.

\----------------------------------------

By some act of fate, Crowley and Aziraphale's holiday stalls ended up right next to each other. Crowley’s is piled with fresh evergreen wreaths, bundles of mistletoe, and sprigs of holly - all ready to be bought and hung up in doorways or set on the mantles above fireplaces.

Aziraphale mainly has a stall simply to feel like he’s participating. He would never bring any of his beloved books out into this weather, but he does have a small collection of holiday cards for sale. 

The stalls have been decently busy this evening, but they seem to have hit a lull. Molly makes her way over from her stall with a selection of savory and sweet pastries. Iroh trails after her, carrying two mugs. 

“Here Crowley, Aziraphale, have something to eat and drink,” she says, setting down her bundle at Aziraphale’s stall. She waves Iroh forward to deposit the cups as well. Crowley slowly makes his way over from his own stall.

“Why, thank you,” Aziraphale says, reaching for a cup. “This is very kind.”

He takes a sip and his eyes widen as he tries his best not to cough. “That has quite a kick,” he finally manages to say.

“It’s eggnog,” Iroh says with a smile. “Molly was good enough to share her recipe with me.”

Crowely sniffs his mug cautiously, before taking a sip. He doesn’t cough, but he wrinkles his nose a bit in surprise.

“What do you do, brew it in a cauldron?” he asks.

“I have seven children. Sometimes, I need something to calm my nerves,” Molly replies, with absolutely no embarrassment.

“The rum has a nice burn, very warm,” Iroh says approvingly.

After a few more minutes of idle conversation, Iroh and Molly wander back to their own stalls.

Despite still having half a mug left to go, the eggnog has left Aziraphale feeling very relaxed. It also seems to have calmed Crowely’s nerves, as he leans languidly against the side of the stall.

“How have you been?” Aziraphale finally says. “It feels like it's been a thousand years since we talked.”

“Yes, it does seem that way, for all we only live a few blocks away,” Crowely agrees.

“I'll admit, when you came over here I thought the world was ending.” Aziraphale smiles.

“Very funny, angel,” Crowely says. Crowely’s glasses are too dark to see through in the low light, but Aziraphale is sure he is rolling his eyes.

“You haven’t called me that since you used that horrible pick up line in high school,” Aziraphale says.

“I was over-eager,” Crowely says, tilting his head.

“You were sweet, under that bad boy facade,” Azirphale says.

“It wasn’t a _facade_. You saw how fast I drove my Bentley - and how loudly I blasted my stereo,” Crowely objects.

“Yes, _Queen_ is so scandalous,”Aziraphale chuckles indulgently. 

“Come on, at heart, you’re at least a little bit of a good person, even if you fell in with a bad crowd,” he adds.

“I didn’t fall!” Crowely says. “I just - sauntered vaguely downward.”

“Oh, is that how you came to love me, too? You didn’t fall, you sauntered?” Aziraphale’s mug is all but empty now. He would be shocked at his own presumptuousness, except he’s more concerned with watching Crowely’s reaction.

“Deep down, you’re a bit of a bastard, you know that?” Crowley snorts.

“Funny how we both got things so wrong back then,” Aziraphale says. 

Crowely considers Aziraphale - his smile, the crinkles around his eyes, the way the snowflakes get lost in his white hair - and he decides to take a chance. He throws back the rest of his eggnog in one swallow.

“Would you like to get dinner, sometime?” Crowley asks.

Aziraphale sits up straighter in surprised delight.“Why not now? We have drinks and the best pastries anyone could ask for,” he says.

“Back then, I promised I’d take you to the fanciest restaurant in town,” Crowely protests.

“It’s not exactly the Ritz, but it’s close enough for me,” Azirphale says.

“Well then, could I tempt you to a croissant?” Crowely asks, selecting one from the bundle Molly left and holding it out to Aziraphale.

“Certainly,” Aziraphale replies, blushing. 

Crowely grins widely.

\---------------------------------------------

As midnight nears, everyone at the Winter Holiday Fair gathers around the tree for the official lighting and to each add an ornament. For all the build up, the event itself is over rather quickly. 

The lights go on, the ornaments go up, and everyone cheers.

In the course of a few minutes, everyone has gathered themselves into haphazard groups loosely circling the tree and talking. It’s cheery and calm as the lights twinkle and the ornaments glint in their muted glow.

Suddenly, the peaceful hum of conversation is interrupted when a snowball hits Ron Weasely in the back of the head. He turns in time to see Fred Weasely crouching down to gather more snow, before he is hit in the face by another snowball thrown by George. 

Hermione is the first to react, throwing her hands up to deflect anymore snowballs coming toward herself and her boyfriend. Meanwhile, Ginny crouches down to scoop up some snow, her own projectile catching Fred in the shoulder. 

From beside Ginny, Azula throws her own snowball at Zuko before grabbing Ginny’s hand and racing for cover. Hakoda laughs from the far side of the tree and lightly tosses a snowball at his daughter, and Katara ducks just in time to avoid it. 

Soon everyone is embroiled in a snowball fight, snowballs flying back and forth across the entire street.

Aziraphale gets hit by a stray snowball, and lets out a little _oof_ of surprise, and Crowley throws one back in retaliation, hitting Sokka in the ear, before turning back to Aziraphale and helping him brush off his coat. 

Amid the hub-bub, Iroh retreats back to his stall, chuckling. He pours himself a cup of jasmine tea. In the next stall over, Molly is already bustling about, beginning to pack up for the night. 

Iroh just leans back to watch the melee from afar. 

Neville and Luna wander down the street, paying little attention to the ongoing snowball fight, while Azula and Ginny are back to back near the tree, throwing snowballs at anyone who gets too near. Zuko has tried to find cover behind a pile of empty ornament boxes, but he still gets hit with a snowball, and Sokka almost falls over laughing at his disgruntled expression. Before Zuko can get too upset, though, Sokka rights himself and offers Zuko his scarf.

Iroh sips his tea and watches it all, idly humming an old song to himself. He mumbles the last line under his breath “ _four seasons, four loves…_ ”

From her stall Molly looks up from stacking turnovers into a parchment lined basket.

“More like one season, four loves,” she says. She pauses a moment in thought, then snorts. “Or one _fair_ , four loves.

“Well, you can't have everything,” Iroh chuckles.

**Author's Note:**

> Also, this is how my sister wanted this fic to end: ( _GoodOmens/HarryPotter/Avatar the Last Airbender + Dr. Who_ )
> 
> Martha: This place is weird. Where even is Winterville? And who names a street ‘jubilation’? I thought you said we were going to Alpha Centauri.
> 
> 10th Doctor: Quite right. Nothing to see here. Totally not a rip in the space time continuum. Back into the Tardis we go.
> 
> Martha: Hey, doesn’t that bloke in the sunglasses look a lot like you?
> 
> 10th Doctor: I don’t know what you mean.
> 
> Martha: The man over there, standing next to the white-haired gent in the waistcoat. He looks just like you. Bit older, though.
> 
> 10th Doctor: I don’t see it. Off we go!
> 
> \-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
> 
> I got most of my mistletoe facts (except for the Norse myth mention) from https://www.britannica.com/plant/mistletoe 
> 
> Thanks for reading!
> 
> -MMR


End file.
